There are days when I mask myself into rage, out of pain. A constant pain. Of your wait. Of your surrounding. Of your aroma. Of your delicacy. Of your beauty.

In those days, I turn to oceans. Look at them with naked eyes. And grow a feeling of you holding my hand. Those oceans then rage into my eyes. My troubled eyes. My awaiting eyes.

And then those questions, those unanswerable questions. I drown in them. Carrying my own fault. With my own luck and your very soul. The depth grows every second till I touch the soil. And become a star. A dying star.

In the late afternoons, when the yellows of the sunlight turns orange. When the venoms of loneliness baste the walls of my home. Far… beyond the skies, your shadow glows and dims. Far… beyond your shadow, there is a fog of my hope. Hope, that glows and dims.

Now, that hope has turned grotesque. It’s dress has been befouled. It’s face has scars.

Or perhaps, it is about to die. It is about to betray me. And leave me in Solitary.

In the loneliness, that dark, afflictive loneliness. Another hope scares me. It scares me with its love. And makes way into my heart. Perhaps, I’ve forgotten to love.

In the loneliness, and in its venom That old, unattractive hope distracts me. Confuses me. And the new hope fights for it’s survival, fights for my attention, fights to be owned. But it might betray. It might ruin my heart with it’s beauty and perfection. It may shrink the shroud of my honesty.

Or perhaps I don’t understand it clearly. Perhaps I underestimate it. Underestimate it’s significance. Undermine its power. Undervalue its love.

All these thoughts and many fill me up. Ask me someday and I’ll tell you about those. Ask me someday and I’ll tell you about my new hope.

Out in the ocean, there is an island. Where dreams live. And in those dreams, hundreds of memories, thousands of conversations and millions of thoughts survive. They cherish the moments of happiness and live the eternal life. Life that is far beyond the laws, rules, norms, values and culture. There lives a single race. They speak a common language. The language of love.

There is no racism there. No gender inequality. No religion. No faith. No war. No crime. No time. No space.

When the silence enfolds me, I go there sometimes. To live my dream. To sense the purity within me. But I see there Him only. Him, the One. The eternal. Smiling.

Out in the space, where there is vacuum. Where there is dark matter. That no one can see. But He. The Creator.

When the silence enfolds me, I bow down to Him. And say You’re the greatest. He tells me then, to look within, there you’ll find me.